


Fastest pizza joint in town

by asterCrash



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Cute, F/F, Pizza, Pizzastuck, Strilondes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/asterCrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane always requests Roxy for delivery because she's the fastest Strilonde Pizzeria has to offer, not because she's the cutest sibling on staff, which isn't to say that she isn't the cutest, though it's not like Jane thinks of her that way and now you can see where this story is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jane: You are the customer. It's you.

The girl at the door reacts to your embarrassingly candid look of shock with a quirk in the corner of her mouth. It might be a smile but with this one you're hard pressed to tell for certain.

“Pizza for Jane, right?” she says with a tone that is so rakishly bordering on sarcasm you can't tell if you should feel mocked or if she's just bemused by the situation. You decide you're probably better off not holding a grudge against a person who handles your food so you're therefore making more out of half a sentence than is actually there.

“Right, sorry, I was just expecting someone else.” You are ninety-nine point nine to the infinity percent sure that you requested Roxy instead of her sister. It's not that you have anything against Rose, Roxy's just always a little faster and when you're paying for delivery, which has become a shamefully regular habit, you kinda prefer the fastest available option. That's also why you always order from Strilonde Pizzeria, they might not be the tastiest slice around and they do have some occasionally disturbing box art (a family of creative types, Roxy explained, is a bad recipe for advertising material) but if you excuse the eccentricities they're the fastest joint in town.

“Don't worry, your pizza girlfriend hasn't dumped you, she's just home sick tonight.”

You blurt out “She's not my pizza girlfriend!” before you realise she's just getting a rise out of you. That quirk in the corner of her mouth twiches slightly further upwards. Roxy evidently got all the family's share of facial expressions.

“Relax, just teasing. That's the problem with these family set-ups, it's all an incestuous mess of in-jokes and sibling one-upmanship. Frequent customers are prime ammunition.”

“I don't order that much, do I?” You're a little too mortified to actually think your sentences through at the moment. This girl's got you flailing from one goofy expression of embarrassment to another.

“Still teasing, sorry. You're one of the better ones though, no tricky orders, house is easy to get to, nice and friendly. There are some places we won't deliver to anymore, poor Callie has to come and pick up for herself and that piece of shit brother of hers. Plus you tip well.”

The mention of money jogs your memory and you suddenly realise you're in the middle of a business transaction. Fumbling, you manage to hand over payment for the order and take the box out of Rose's hands. You tip more than usual so Rose knows there's no hard feelings, if she notices she politely declines to comment. With a nod she turns to head back to the garishly painted Lalonde-mobile. You call out before she gets too far to send your best wishes to Roxy.

“She'd like to hear that, I think. You're her favourite customer.”   
You are ninety-nine point nine to the infinity percent sure that look means she's still teasing you but you can't help blurt out a “She really said that?” before regaining control over the outburst centre of your brain.

“Well those weren't her exact words...” Rose suddenly looks unsure, as if she's saying too much.

You give her a pressing look.

“Okay, well, look it was in some variety of sibling rivalry pissing contest about who had the best customer so I'm not sure it should be taken seriously by anyone for any reason...” She trails off before catching your eyes.

You give her your best and most manipulative puppy dog eyes.

She sighs in defeat and after a night of humiliation you chalk one up for team Crocker. “Her exact words were, and I'm quoting here, 'janey is a straightup sexual fox riding a red hot nuclear bombshell'” You feel the blood rising in your cheeks “'right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of babe city, assachusetts, U S A'” Your face is so red it will surely burst into flames “'the last A just stands for more ass'”

It is medically possible to die of embarrassment. You know this because it is happening to you right now. Rose gives you an apologetic “told you so” kind of look and a hasty “enjoy the pizza” before absconding in the Lalonde-mobile. You continue to stand outside for a while, hoping the night air will cool down your still-so-bright-red face as quickly as it's cooling down the almost forgotten pizza in your hand.


	2. Roxy: Apologise for sister

You are Roxy Lalonde and you are not nervous. You are not nervous because you are amazing in every way imaginable and there is no way anyone could not like you. Even after your sister took things too far and blabbed to that anyone about your secret crush on them. You are not nervous.

Coming back from a lackluster night off to find Rose getting grilled by Dirk for potentially costing the business a regular customer was not exactly what you were hoping for. Finding out said regular customer happened to be your Janey certainly did not help. Getting bashfully informed by Rose exactly what was said to your Janey that might make her too uncomfortable to order from you again had you just about ready to faint. But someone has to keep this family from imploding in a mess of Freudian slips, repressed feelings and snarky horseshit so you get Dirk off Rose's case and make it clear to her that you're not mad or nothing. Hey, as long as she didn't say something mean to dear, sweet, precious old lady Fefeta you're pretty sure you can forgive anything your sister does. 

Spending the next two weeks thinking you'd blown your chances with the cute girl who always gets the supreme but with barbecue sauce and extra capsicum wasn't exactly great but you sort of thought you were over it by the next Thursday. Having an order come in near the end of the night for just such a pizza, delivery, to a by now familiar address for a young lady by the name of Jane Crocker was a pleasant surprise. Having her request you by name for the delivery however made your stomach do an acrobatic fucking pirouette off the handle. You felt like you were about to vomit up all of the butterflies. All of them. You still do, driving over there now.

Did she forget? That seems unlikely, she's always struck you as an on-the-ball, pays-attention-to-the-details kind of person. Maybe she thought it was a joke then? That could be possible. Maybe you should just own up to your shit and apologise for talking behind her back like that.

Sheepish has never been your style though, so when she opens the door you make sure you have your biggest smile on and scream out “Strilonde Pizzeria!” for all the neighbours to hear. You like to think of it as 'proactive advertising' more than 'reportable noise complaint'. She gives you this look like you're the biggest dork in the world and it makes your heart melt every time. You just know if your only interactions weren't these little doorstep deliveries you and she would be hella tight besties by now. You hand over her delicious and expertly prepared meal with a flourish before putting on your best expression of contrition.

“Hey about what your sister said,” Jane interrupts before you can get into your mad eloquent speech of awesome apologies “don't worry about it. I get that you guys joke around a lot, it's not weird that you'd joke about customers.” She is so fucking amazing you kind of want to hug her right now, but there is the small matter of a pizza box between you and you'll be damned if you're not going to actually apologise.

“It still wasn't right though, I mean, saying stuff behind your back isn't cool, whatever I said.” You carefully avoid repeating the exact sentence you're apologising for or referencing it in any way. With any luck she's completely forgotten.

“It was actually a bit funny, once I got over the shock. I don't think anyone's described me as a 'straightup sexual fox' before.” Oh shit she remembers, you can't breathe. “Relax,” she says quickly, probably noticing the way you froze up “like I said, it's okay.”

You have to recover, you cannot fall to this amazing prankster's gambit, “I just can't believe no one's ever said something like that to you before.” This is a _terrible_ direction to take this conversation but if you lose momentum you're going to freak out from the embarrassment and say something even more cringeworthy. “Surely a total babe like you could get any guy she wanted.” Cringeworthy like that. 

You leave the unspoken gender alternatives hanging in the air, a tantalising/semi-desperate hook to get a hint as to where her sexuality lies. You have had no faith in your gaydar since Dave started dating the adorable shouty guy. You'd had a bet going with Rose that he'd fall into a Freudian relationship with an older babe, she'd steadfastly asserted he would trip over himself to ask out the first guy with a cute smile and a bad temper to walk in the door. She's damn near clairvoyant sometimes.

“Not really, I don't really have anyone like that in my life right now,” the ambiguity in her answer fills you with a weird mix of nervous hope “and most of the guys who I've tried to ask out have just turned out to be kind of lackluster? I guess I was putting them on a pedestal too much.”

“Ugh, I know, right?” Bonding over how guys suck is the first step to awkward girl-on-girl experimentation, at least it has been in your skewed experience of the world “Like that date thing I had when Rose was covering for me a couple of weeks back it was really just”

“Rose said you were sick?” Jane interrupts you, seemingly out of habit, like she needs to get all the fact straight for the story to make sense to her. It'd be kind of weird, but she's always picked up on the little details the few times you've chatted before. You're mostly surprised your little pizza deliveries are apparently worth her note.

“Wait, what? Really? Um, I don't know why she would say something like that.” You know exactly why she said that. Rose might have set you up with an online friend of hers with the express intention of opening up your social circle, but you think she's still gunning for lesbian Lalonde X2 combo. It doesn't excuse flat-out lying, but you can see where she was coming from. “No, I had a date with a guy I met online.” See? Why lie when you can just bend the truth a little?

“Oh. Uh, how did it go?” You can't tell if this is being polite or another Crocker fact-finding mission but you see no reason in being coy.

“It was really kind of awkward, actually! We didn't even end up doing anything date-like. It wasn't bad, he just seemed to think it was an us hanging out as friends thing, which is sweet in its own way but I guess I'm just not attracted to clueless? Or maybe I'm just offended that he thought I actually wanted to watch Con-Air haha.

“I dunno, it probably wasn't going to work out from the start but I felt like a lot of people were expecting us to just click and there wasn't really anything to back that up when we got down to it?” Maybe if you say it like a question you'll feel less like you're letting people down. Which is weird because if the thing actually worked out you would have been the only member of your family not currently in a same-sex relationship. Having hetero-guilt in a family as beautiful and unconventional as yours just feels wrong but you can't help what society shoved into your brain. 

You meet her eyes awkwardly and you can see she doesn't really get it but she wants to and just that makes your heart squeeze up a bit. The transaction moves forward and she hands over the cash. You don't break eye contact as she puts the money in your hand and for what little it's worth you hope she notices that you don't bother counting it. She's always given you exact change plus a two dollar tip, which considering the price of the pizza is actually huge. Just the little scrape of her fingers against your palm puts extra pressure on the squeeze in your chest and you know if you don't look away you're probably going to lean into her and try something unprofessional.

“Oh wow, sorry, we've been talking out here for like the last ten minutes, I've got a few more deliveries to make on this run. Thanks for not being weird about Rose being weird.” You say, like a coward. “I really liked talking with you though.”

She smiles a bit as you back up to leave “We could talk more online sometime? My chum handle is 'gutsyGumshoe', spelt like it sounds.”

You flash her your biggest smile “I'll add you when I get back, mine's 'tipsyGnostalgic' but the spelling's weird. Byeeeee” You shout running back to your car. You have some impatient customers ahead on your route.

\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 21:34 -- 

GG: The spelling wasn't that hard to deduce :B  
TG: !!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second chapter, how 'bout that.  
> I have an idea for how I want to continue this but reader input is always fun if anyone would like to comment. In my head all the other Strilondes have existing partners but if someone wants to throw a ship at me I could see about weaseling it in. The only set in stone ships so far are:  
> Roxy<3Jane and  
> John<3Terrible movies.


	3. Jane: Special Delivery

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 20:56 -- 

TG: hey janey you home at the moment?  
GG: Yes, what's happening?  
TG: have you eaten yet?  
GG: I was just about to make dinner. Roxy, what's going on?  
TG: sssh just come to the front door

–-

You open the front door of your home to find a bashful looking pizza delivery girl loitering on the welcome mat holding a few boxes of her signature product. Which is strange, because as bad as this pizza habit of yours is getting you haven't ordered anything from her tonight.

“I got pranked!” She announces with something like a wail but indescribably more like a lost kitten who needs a hug. “We should have known it was that brat because no one orders the sugar sashimi surprise except him and his sister, but the address checked out and he threw a few more pizzas onto the order to fool us.”

“And you brought this, wait is that the one that's just raw meat and candy on a pizza? I thought that was a joke, you don't actually make that do you?” Roxy grins and lifts the lid up, revealing the crime against culinary common sense to your poor unsuspecting nose. You fear for the children who are apparently ordering this regularly enough for the Strilondes to put it on their menu. You have to physically shake your head to get your thoughts back on track “so what are you doing here?”

“Well, since we can't prove it was him we can't really charge him for the stupid order, we just have to eat the cost and I figured, if we're already eating the cost we might as well eat the non-insane pizzas and then I thought hey, the capricciosa has barbecue sauce on it and that's close enough to your regular order that you might like to have that one and I'll eat the mexican.” She is giving you a ludicrous grin of hope and you almost want to count her teeth to make sure she's actually human and not some rare variety of flat-toothed land-shark. But that would involve paying far too much attention to her mouth and between Roxy's regular teasing and Rose's awkward denouement you're trying to be a bit careful about what signals you send.

A free meal, however, is a free meal, so you let your persistent pizza pal inside with a stern resolution to keep your friendship as platonic as surprise pizza dates allow.

–-

“Sorry the place is such a mess” you say with practiced nonchalance as you bring Roxy into your pristine living room “I wasn't expecting guests.” Roxy gives you her best 'yeah I notice you showing off, I'm wise to your games' look and wow does this count as flirting already? 

You gesture to the couch and Roxy plonks herself down unceremoniously and begins dealing pizza boxes out onto the coffee table. You got this couch specifically because it's so spacious, enough room to fit six people comfortably as it curves around the wall of your living room. That doesn't stop you from making a point of ignoring all the extra room and sitting down right next to Roxy, the expected five inches away that says 'fast friends but still working out boundaries'. If she notices the precision of your friendship Roxy says nothing, peeling open the box in front of her to reveal the steaming goodness within.

Roxy lifts up a slice of pepperoni covered perfection and dangles it tantalisingly in front of her face, so you do the logical thing and steal the piece straight out of her hand and take a chomp from it. Your prankster's gambit is off the charts and you get to savour the half-second of stunned staring before Roxy bursts out laughing and grabs another piece. It's only been a few weeks since you gave her your chum handle but you've talked to each other so much in that short space of time that it feels like you could have known her forever. It's good to hear her laugh in person, you decide.

You spend a while just enjoying the food with some occasional banter and one or two more attempts at grand theft pizza but it's not long before you're full enough to worry eating more might have a negative impact on your figure. You try not to let the body image stuff get to you, but sometimes it sneaks in when you're just trying to enjoy your day and makes a nuisance of itself.

Thankfully Roxy looks to be finished as well so there hopefully won't be any awkward questions. She lets out a loud belch that is much more adorable than gross and gives you a stupid grin like she's daring you to try and be louder. You indulge yourself and rise to the challenge.

“Wow, ok I am not going to be able to beat that. Where'd a ladylike ladyperson like you learn to make noises like that?”

“Well my dad said it reminded him of poppop so I sort of came to think of it as a silly connection to him, which, from what I've heard, he would have approved of.”

“That's a pretty rad origin story you got there for your mad burping skills. You got any other cool family stories?”

“Not a lot, I've just got my dad and a cousin by way of my dad's twin. John's nice, but sort of a dork? He likes the worst movies.”

“Wait, wait. Does he look like you? Glasses? Messy hair? Inexplicable appreciation of Ghostbusters? Is John Egbert actually your cousin?”

The pieces fall into place under the scrutiny of your expert deductive skills “Wait, your dork of a date from a few weeks back was MY dork of a cousin?”

Roxy facepalms with sufficient melodrama to flop backwards onto the couch. You don't even try to suppress your laughter as you poke her legs with glee. “I probably should never meet your dad for fear that I will be compelled to awkwardly hit on your entire family tree” Roxy giggles while peeking through her fingers at you. The thought of a neat and orderly goofball like your father spending time with the wild and chaotic goofball lying across from you is to much to handle and you collapse over laughing. You can't even imagine how they would end up on a date outside of a ludicrous fantasy setting with castles and flying battleships.

Your precious five inch friendship demilitarisation zone has been decimated as doubling over with laughter landed you pretty much directly on top of Roxy's surprisingly cushy torso. One of her hands drops absently onto your hair and you don't really feel inclined to remove it. “I don't know,” she begins absentmindedly “there's just something about you Crockerberts that gets a girl's pump biscuit going.” and the use of weird troll slang only partially distracts you from the way her hand begins to softly stroke your hair. You can feel her breathing underneath you, the rise and fall of her chest constricted, as if she's trying very hard not to move you at all from where you are right now.

“I can't quite say you Strilondes aren't a handsome bunch either,” you say, because double negatives mean you're not really admitting anything “at least the two I've met so far.” You don't really want to move either. Where you've landed you can hear the rhythm of her heart through her chest and it might just be the most soothing beat you've ever heard.

“Maybe I should take you back to the shop some time so you can meet the Strider half of the equation. I warn you though, the boys are not nearly as cute as exposure to Lalonde babeitude may have led you to believe.” You actually do lift off her chest to give her an unimpressed look after that line “Babeitude being the international standard for measuring how babeing a given individual or set of individuals may be. One megababe is considered the standard unit of measurement when referring to Lalondes in the singular or plural.” She lets all this out with a very knowing air, as if she isn't just making this all up on the spot to push your buttons. Though at this stage just the eye contact alone is starting to push buttons you didn't plan on getting pushed this evening.

“Oh? And where would a humble girl like myself find her place on such a scale?” You ask because you honestly enjoy the back and forth with Roxy when she's being a pill.

“Oh definitely a gigababe at least.” She says with a very matter of fact tone, like she didn't just pronounce it 'jigga-babe' as if she were Doc Brown just arrived back from the future. “But then again, it's hard to accurately measure just how babeing a girl is if she's so hot all the instruments melt from the sexiness” and she throws a few extra 'x's into that word just to mess with you. You can honestly feel it working and shift yourself a little closer up towards her face. Platonic friendship is gradually starting to feel overrated.

This is of course the best and most perfect time for Roxy's phone to go off. She lets out a genuine groan of dismay as you abscond to the other side of the couch so she can take her call. After a short back and forth it becomes evident Roxy is needed back at base despite her protests.

You curse your luck silently all the way to the front door as Roxy tries to apologise for having to go. You're standing over the threshold as you try to bid her farewell but can't quite find the words. You can see in her eyes that she doesn't want to leave any more than you want to let her.

After too long a heartfelt gaze you manage to croak out a “goodbye.”

Roxy gets out a “no, fuck this” and then she's kissing you. She presses her mouth against yours like this may be the last chance she ever gets and you're not so startled that you can't do your best to kiss back. She tastes of the pizza you just shared and the gorgeous strawberry undertone of whatever lipstick she's wearing. You don't even care that pepperoni and strawberry have never and should never go together you'd eat a whole sugar sashimi surprise if it meant you could keep tasting Roxy.

All good things have to come to an end though, and you find her fingers curled around the hands you didn't realise had become bunched up in her shirt. She gives you a peck on the cheek for reassurance and, at this point, more words aren't going to make anything clearer, so she leaves without saying anything further and all you can do is watch her go.

\--

\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 22:08 -- 

GG: I didn't get a chance to properly thank you. Next time you have a day off would you like to come over so I may repay the favour?  
GG: For the food, I mean!  
TG: lmao  
TG: im free this saturday?  
GG: It's a date :B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I named a chapter in my pizza delivery au "special delivery" it was going to happen eventually. Feedback or suggestions always appreciated.


	4. Roxy: Cupcakes and cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Part of this chapter may be uncomfortable for survivors or people who experience PTSD. The next chapter will recap anything important so feel free to skip.

“Hey wow I feel kinda naked turning up here without a pizza.” You say, because greetings are obviously your forté and you are not nervous at all. “Also in nicer clothes than usual, though I guess that invalidates the naked thing?” If you run your mouth any more your siblings are going to have to start calling you Dave.

She just gives you that infuriatingly gorgeous smile of hers and kisses you right on the lips. Quick and chaste but real and not just a fantasy anymore. You haven't talked about the two of you all week, not since you lost all the sense you could have claimed to have and made out with a girl you had no idea liked you back. Just this tiny kiss is such a reassurance. After far too many flings that ended with the object of your affections telling you they're not into girls, just that kiss is all you need to know everything's going to be all right. “You look lovely” she says and she sounds like she's never going to not mean it. She takes your hand, it might as well have your heart in it for all the squeeze it puts in your chest, and she ever so gently leads you into her home.

You have to remind yourself that the cute girl kissing you on her doorstep does not mean you're getting your happily ever after right away. You put on your game-face because you're going to need every ounce of your feminine wiles and Lalonde charm if you want her to keep you. You want her to keep you.

She leads you into the kitchen and, in comparison to some of the dated wallpaper you spot on your way through, this room appears to have been recently renovated. The oven is top of the line, the sink has been fitted with something shiny and chrome and there are two fridges, one that looks like the wall was rebuilt around it to make it at home and a larger industrial looking one like you might see in a restaurant too small for a walk-in freezer. You prop yourself up on a convenient dining table and continue to take in details while Jane busies herself with the oven. You do your level best not to stare at her butt while it wiggles in the air and fail miserably. You hope very much she doesn't turn around to see you ogling her but you're certain god himself can only fondly regard his creation when Jane Crocker's rear end is involved. Which is funny, because the only word that can be used to describe it is “damn”.

“What was that?” Jane pipes up as she lifts a rack of steaming hot goodness out of the oven and oh shit you said that out loud like a complete tool, or worse, a Strider.

“I was just commenting on this kitchen,” you throw in an appreciative whistle to give credence to the lie “mighty fine kitchen. Damn good.”

She gives you that knowing smile again and turns around to set the cooling muffins down. You avert your gaze and bite your tongue to prevent any further cover-ups from becoming necessary. Turning back around she offers you a cake decoratey thing (your brain says piping bag but you have no idea how you know that) and a jar of sprinkles. “Want to make yourself useful?”

Hell yes you do. You want to make yourself useful all over the place. You're going to be the best at this.

–-

You are the worst at this. Each squeeze of that infuriating bag pours icing in exactly the wrong direction meaning all your spirals come out in wonky uneven lines, the few sprinkles you attempt to apply land horribly all over the place and it's just all wrong. You love it. These are the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff of cupcakes. Jane never criticizes your work, only encourages your enthusiasm and keeps handing you new things to try. Every one of your misbegotten creations she goes to task on with a small set of brushes, scalpels, tweezers and some other tools you don't have names for. Every misshapen swirl is artistically brought back into form, blank surfaces are carved into beautiful motifs, mislaid sprinkles are nudged and placed in just the right spot to make the most gorgeous tessellations.

She gets you to work on more complicated designs, taking a blue bag of icing for herself (your brain was right, they are called piping bags) and handing you a pink one. You have no idea how she knew your favourite colour and you don't care because you're going to pretend this means you're destined to make shitty cupcakes with this amazing girl. She draws something that looks like a ghost or a beast of some kind, probably a reference to something. You draw a cat because cats are awesome and give it two extra eyes because eyes are also awesome. She makes a few quick corrections to her own creation but you ward her off yours. This is your precious mutant cat and she is perfect just the way she is.

It's only when you're waving her hands away you notice just how much yours have become covered in the pink and blue of the icing. Hers are pristine and spotless, naturally. You make a face at the mess you've made and she gives you a giggle in exchange. There's a bated breath on her part before she quirks an eyebrow at you and asks quietly “May I?” and you don't know what she's going to do but she's going to do it to you so you nod assent.

Her fingers are ever so gentle as she lifts your hands from beneath. There's a tentativeness to her, but her confidence must outweigh her caution because she continues to bring your right hand up to her mouth and closes those plush lips around your index finger. Her tongue flickers around your finger and it's enough to make you moan out loud. She stops and takes your now spotless, if slimy, finger out her mouth to check with you. It's all you can do to squeak a “please” and your tongue bath resumes with a long lick up your pinky followed by her taking your entire middle finger in her mouth. The suction on your ring finger is magical and you shudder as the sensation ripples through your whole body. She continues in this fashion until you're a hot mess and dying to have her mouth against yours. Thankfully, she obliges. Her lips are as soft pressed up to yours as they were on your fingers, and you can taste the icing she licked off you during those brief moments when your tongues clash and rub up against each other. You kiss her deep and hungry, sucking at her lower lip the way she held your thumb in her mouth. Your still-drying hands are grabbing at her lower back and her arms are wrapped around your neck, pulling you close.

You haven't spoken about it all week, not to her, not to Dirk, not to Rose or Dave but this is what you've been longing for. The way she presses her face into you to continue the kiss every time you think it might be fading out tells you she's been having the same thoughts.

You don't remember how she got you from the kitchen to her bedroom and you don't care. The warmth of her kiss is still fading on your lips and you want her back at your mouth as soon she can get there. She brings you down to the mattress as gently as she can and you squirm your way up to the pillows, kicking off shoes as you go because who could undo shoelaces at a time like this? Your hands are jittery with anticipation and you feel the adrenaline that's waking you up more than a hundred cups of coffee surging through your veins. Jane kicks off her own shoes and throws off her sweater to boot. You wish you'd had her good sense and got out of your jacket before lying down but it's too late for regrets now because she's straddling you and the terrible absence of her lips from yours is gone.

Her hands come down on either side of your head, propping her just above you and giving you full backstage access to the gun show while you're at it. Your hands are up on her face, feeling the soft roundness of her cheeks and pulling her in for more. So much more. All the more. All of it. You love the weight of her on top of you. You love the way she sighs and draws in breath without breaking your kiss. You love the smell of freshly baked goods that hangs around her like perfume and it only makes you hungrier for her.

This is so much more satisfying than everything that came before. This is better than online flings that never went anywhere in person. This is so much better than waiting long-distance for people who would never come back. This is so much more fun than one night stands in a club bathroom when you could barely see from the—

_the blue light of the bathroom mirror paints her hair a darker shade of purple. Her lips are painted jet black rather than the red you saw on the dancefloor. You taste like vodka and she tastes like cigarette ash. You kiss but there's no feeling to it. She sits on the bench, reflected in the bathroom mirror while the sink runs next to you to wash away the vomit. She pushes your head down and you're too tired to say no. She tastes like cigarette ash._

“Roxy? Roxy are you okay? Roxy, please, please say something.” The roar in your head quiets down. You left that club. You left it a long time ago and you're not going back. You hold onto her and do your best to hold back tears. “Janey, is it ok if we don't do anything tonight other than just kissing?”

She rolls off you to the side but doesn't break eye contact. She goes to put a hand on your face before thinking better of it and moving instead to hold your hand. This cupcake queen is so sweet you could cry. “We don't have to do anything you don't want. I just wanted to see you again.”

You don't deserve her. Your first real date, your first real totally awesome makeout session and you freeze up and turn into a blubbering mess. You should go, you need to leave, you can't let her see you like—

“You can cry if you need to, I won't ask you to leave.” Her eyes are so sincere, there's no firmness to them, just the gentle tilt of her eyebrows and that makes you want to hold her close and never let go. “I was meaning to ask you earlier, before we got carried away. Roxy, would you like to go out with me?”

Oh shit. Shit. She wants to keep you. She actually wants you to be her girlfriend. She’s seen you fall into a weeping wreck and she doesn’t want you to leave _like she did_. She’s not throwing you out because she actually likes you as a person and wants you to stay. You bury your face in her shoulder and say yes in all the ways you know how. She wraps her arms around you and holds you fiercely until you can get yourself under control again.

\--

When the tears finally stop she’s idly brushing your hair with her fingers and you meet her eyes to see if the last few minutes have changed anything. She’s still giving you that bucktoothed grin that makes you wish you could be happy all the time for her. She deserves you at your best. But she’s willing to take you at your worst. And you can’t help but love her for that.

She runs out of the room for a minute once you’re settled and comes back with two things that only make you love her more. The first is a box of tissues, and you sit still while she patiently cleans your face and fixes up your makeup where it’s ran with the tears. The second is a tray covered with the cupcakes you decorated together. You hiccup while you eat them but they’re amazing to taste, this isn’t the romance talking these are seriously the best cupcakes you’ve ever had the good fortune to stuff into your craw. Just the taste alone is picking your spirits back up and when Jane manages to get icing on the tip of her nose you actually manage to laugh. You kiss the icing off and then kiss her, soft and gentle and full of as much love as you can muster. She kisses back just the same.

After you’ve tried a few different ones she puts the tray aside and joins you back on the bed, fingers entwining so naturally you’d think her hands were made just to fit yours. You gush about how good her cupcakes are, because it’s being honest and it’s easy to talk about. She mentions that she wants to start an artisanal bakery, making specialty goods and delivering to local businesses and schools. You ask if she has a good delivery girl yet. She squeezes your hand in affirmation and smugly confirms that she definitely knows a good delivery girl. It all comes so lovely and natural to her. She smiles when you joke, she laughs when you trip over your own tongue, she kisses you when she feels like it and whenever you ask. You feel so at home in her arms or on her bed.

But the sun is sinking lower in the sky and you’ve got to get back in time for the evening rush. You exchange promises to talk online and extend an offer for her to visit the restaurant some time so Dirk can give her the low down on what it’s like to set up a business. 

She kisses you goodnight at the front door and this time you’re not nervous. This time you know where you stand. This time you’re kissing your girlfriend.

And you’re happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty happy with how this one turned out, sorry for the emotional 180. Was planning to dig further into Jane's life in this AU but Roxy sort of ate the chapter. Will likely delve into it more next chapter and eventually get into the Strilonde backstory.


	5. Intermission

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> motivation for this one has been lagging but wanted to at least drop hints of the distinctly more sci-fi direction I wanted to take this au

**Author's Note:**

> “you’re the only delivery person who gets to my house in any semblance of the word fast which is why i keep requesting you but you don’t believe me and tease me constantly about it” prompted by http://matymurdok.tumblr.com/post/110467148603/here-have-some-aus-as-if-there-arent-enough-on


End file.
